


Say it Softly

by Make_It_Worse



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Gavin Reed, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fight Sex, Gavin is emotionally constipated, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Praise Kink, Protective Upgraded Connor | RK900, Rough Sex, Short One Shot, Sort Of, Swearing, Top Upgraded Connor | RK900, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, discussions of sex but no actual sex, mentions of choking and bruises, mentions of slapping, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 01:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16672474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Make_It_Worse/pseuds/Make_It_Worse
Summary: Gavin often became skittish after sex, demanding space. Nines took up the habit of tidying up whatever mess they made between where their sex began and where it ended. He would right tables, put fallen books back on shelves, and wait. It was exasperating. Anytime he pushed, Gavin slammed down his walls, erecting fortifications so complete that an entire army of RK900s would have a hard time breaching them.--Gavin is emotionally constipated and Nines is trying to figure out why.





	Say it Softly

Gavin was a peculiar creature when it came to sex. Even with his limited exposure to intimacy and life in general, Nines knew the detective’s tastes ran well outside the boundaries of basic vanilla intercourse. While their activities taught Nines control, Nines liked to think he was teaching Gavin some manners.

Their latest exploits had left questionable bruises in almost-public places. Gavin’s constant need to prod at them made them all the more obvious. Nines took absurd pleasure in these panicky, post-coital displays.

Not all of it pleased him, however. Gavin often became skittish after sex, demanding space. Nines took up the habit of tidying up whatever mess they made between where their sex began and where it ended. He would right tables, put fallen books back on shelves, and wait. It was exasperating. Anytime he pushed, Gavin slammed down his walls, erecting fortifications so complete that an entire army of RK900s would have a hard time breaching them.

Nines could slap Gavin, rail into him against walls, and fuck him blind over counters, but getting the angry little man to use words proved a significant challenge. What made it all the more vexing was his vitals went haywire every time. Without being able to see him, Nines couldn’t hazard to guess what the problem was, if there was a problem at all. The unstable heart rate could be several factors: afterglow re-stabilization, embarrassment at his wanton displays, or actual distress.

More than once, Nines tried to follow Gavin into his safe haven. Every time, Gavin rebuffed him.

“I just need to fucking shower, calm your tits.”

“The fuck you need to shower for, tin can?”

“Fucking A, you that stuck on this ass?”

His responses were always crude, nothing unusual, but there was more bite than bark—a distinctly out of character peculiarity. Gavin talked a lot—more than any human with such limited non-vulgar vocabulary needed to—but most of it lacked actual force unless it was in these moments. 

This night was the worst it had ever been. His descent into a foul mood began before Nines had been able to so much as think about cleaning the blood off Gavin’s face. He watched him warily as Gavin stood, dragging a hand through the mess around his mouth. He could see the familiar set of his jaw, the darkening in his eyes.

“Gavin…” he tried to reach him, but Gavin was already retreating to the inner sanctum of his chosen shower exile. Nines knew that these moments after were important. He demanded much of Gavin during sex and Gavin gave him his all. He wanted to wrap his arms around the little man, to share his appreciation, to drink in the afterglow. More often than not, they wound up here. Gavin, alone in the shower with an oscillating heartbeat. Nines, alone in the hallway, trying to see through the door.

Nines always stood post outside the bathroom, waiting for Gavin to emerge. The amount of time it took varied, but, on this evening, the wait felt like a bow pulled beyond its limits. It was quivering, the tenuous string ready to launch its burden.

A near-silent whimper broke it.

 _Enough_. It thrummed through Nines’ entire being, bolstering him with sufficient disregard to consider smashing through Gavin’s bathroom door if necessary. He knocked, but he heard nothing beyond the sounds of water. He tried the knob and was surprised to find it unlocked.

How many times had Nines tried the door just to find it barred against him? How many times had Gavin shouted at him to leave when he tried to gain access? This missing barrier filled Nines with more dread than happiness. It was not permission; it was defeat.

A repeat of the strangled whimpering sound forced him into action. Nines ripped open the door, uncertain of what he would find. He was gentler about pulling back the curtain.

The scene before him triggered several emotions, new and foreign. He would have to parse them out later, but he knew he did not like them.

Gavin was squatting down, arms wrapped around himself as if trying to fend off blows. He had his eyes tightly closed, teeth bared. His lips retracted, exposing gums in an anguished grimace. The strange sound seemed to come out of his throat against his will. It reverberated down his spine.

“Gavin.” Either the slight, balled up shell of a man did not hear him or he ignored him. Nines received no answer. He wanted to touch him, to break whatever curse was gripping him. After an agonizing moment of silence, Gavin bowed his head.

“Go.” It was a whisper that lacked conviction, but Nines felt like he’d been kicked. His hesitation was a test he’d failed. Gavin needed something from him, but his stubborn refusal to speak left Nines with limited options. He chose the only path that seemed viable.

In one swift movement, he stepped into the shower fully clothed. He sank behind the fragile man before him and wrenched him back against his chest in an ungainly sprawl. Gavin’s teeth were still clenched, his eyes still shut, but he offered no resistance.

“ _Gavin_.” He said it in a softer tone than he knew he was capable of producing. Gavin shook against him as Nines wrapped his arms around him tighter. Gavin turned his face, expression still agony, pressing it into Nines’ neck. _Finally_ whispered at the back of Nines’ mind when the first howl ripped from Gavin’s chest.

Nines let him cry and held him close as the water beat down on them. He ran light touches over various scars and old hurts, caressing the bruises he’d made only hours before. Gavin’s crying turned to incoherent babbling, but Nines could work out the meaning of his words without pressing for more.

Gavin had been here before many times. Used and wanting to be used, but worse for it in the end. There had never been someone like Nines who wanted to follow him down the murky slope after fulfilling his darker, baser desires. There had never been someone who thought Gavin was worth caring for beyond their own ejaculation.

When the water started to turn cold, Nines wrapped Gavin’s curling body into his arms, carrying the man away from the place he fled to when doubt began to tear at him. The first wall to break was the hardest, but they would be better for it.

Nines would still choke him and backhand him and fuck him as if it was a penance, but, now, he would hold him after. Now, he would fight Gavin’s demons by whispering praise into his ear:

_Gavin, you did so well._

_You felt so good._

_You_ are _good, Gavin._

Gavin would listen and one day he would come to believe it. The livid monster lurking in his chest would shrink smaller than a seed while Nines’ belief in his goodness would grow to devour his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to work on my bottom Hank/Top Connor series, but this little scene wouldn't leave me alone. 
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/WorseMake)


End file.
